


It's Not You; It's This Town

by murg



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ableism, Anxiety Disorder, Depersonalization, Depression, Gen, Troubled Relationship, gynophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murg/pseuds/murg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he just needs a change of scenery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not You; It's This Town

 

She has a craving for cigarettes and chocolate milk at all hours of the night. She can't always have these, so she sits outside the house and she stares up at the stars and he watches her in trepidation, in silent horror of what he knows not, simply fears, and she says, “I’m not excited with my life anymore” as though this is his fault. She blames this town, this job, these friends, but the truth? The truth is herself. And maybe it is partially him as well. Maybe. But he is not trying to stop her from achieving anything.  

He hates it more when she’s like this. He prefers it when the ashtray tells him how long she’s been outside. He wishes she’d just come to bed and lay down and have sweet dreams and not trouble anyone so, particularly him.  

“Henry,” she says, “why are you just standing there? Are you going to come out and visit with me?” 

“No,” he says.  

“Oh.” 

So he turns back around and he thinks about leaving one day, about just exiting out the backdoor with nothing but a suitcase filled with useless items, a suitcase filled to the brim with soup cans or something crazy, and starting a new life. He thinks about different towns, different cities, gets a lonely image in his head and an intense need to be in that picture. Nothing special. Abandoned alleyways. Outside a supermarket with a dumpster. He just needs to be there. It aches in an undefinable space.  

Went to the doctor about it. Didn’t help because he lied. No one wants to talk to a nut. But who knows. Maybe everybody feels this way, secretly, only they don’t want to tell anybody else in fear that they’ll look crazy. Who knows. 

Maybe she does, but she won’t tell him. She doesn’t talk about things that matter. She just talks about emotions that she doesn’t feel and complains about things that will never happen. Whatever. Maybe he is a nut. Maybe his wanting for her to smoke to her heart’s content and be done with it makes him crazy. Maybe his fear of her that he cannot place makes him insane.  

“Henry,” she says, “please, just go inside or come out. You’re letting cold air in.” 

“I just--” And nothing else comes out. No point. There really is no point at all. And it doesn’t disturb him as much as he thought such a realization should. “Okay.”

 

 

 


End file.
